Black Out at Baker Street
by HighlyOveractiveImagination
Summary: The power goes out at Baker Street and funniness ensues. Hints at slash, but mostly a friendship fic.


John was enjoying a quiet night at Baker Street, which was really quite rare considering he had Sherlock Holmes as his roommate. But there they were sitting in silence after dinner (well John ate dinner, Sherlock sat and glared at dinner until John took it away) John reading a book while Sherlock did things in his mind palace. Yet it seems the universe did not want John to have a quiet night in, no, the universe decided a black-out would be much more fun. So the universe knocked out the power. John just sat there for a moment and waited to see if the power would come back on. When it didn't John looked out the window to see if it was just them or if everyone else had lost power as well. Sure enough John didn't see lights coming from anywhere else.

"Sherlock?" John asked.

"Hmmm?" Was all Sherlock offered in response. John stood up off the couch slowly and began to move towards the kitchen where the candles and flashlights were. John bumped into something that grunted in displeasure.

"Sorry Sherlock." John bent over to feel for the sofa so he wouldn't bump into Sherlock again and was met by something squishy.  
"Mmmmffff" Sherlock's squished face sputtered out.

"Oops, sorry." John said moving his hand to the sofa. Then John's leg smacked sharply into the coffee table and he lost his grip on the couch as he hopped up and down clutching his hurt knee. When he recovered, he put his hand back on the couch and began to inch forward, careful to avoid the coffee table.

"John." Sherlock said, stopping John in his tracks.

"That is my thigh." Sherlock said, it took a second to realize that his hand was not in fact on the couch. John removed it and felt for the wall instead. He finally managed to make it to the kitchen after nearly slicing off is fingers on the knife stuck in the mantle. He also almost knocked over Sherlock's skull, but thankfully Sherlock hadn't noticed.

"Sherlock, where are the flashlights? Or the candles?" John said, hoping that Sherlock didn't have anything acidic sitting on the edge of the counter John was running his hand along.

"Ugh, just let me do it." John heard the rustle of fabric as Sherlock stood up and began to shuffle his way to the kitchen.

"Ow!" Sherlock's knee made a loud thud as it collided with the coffee table.

"Watch out for the coffee table." John said, a moment too late.

"Yes John thank-you, I can figure that out on my own." Sherlock continued to feel his way into the kitchen, running into things as he went. Finally his hands found John's shoulders and they began to run along them, and down John's back.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked.

"Oh! That's you, I wasn't sure." Sherlock said and began to step around John when his foot caught on a crate sitting on the floor. Instinctively he grabbed onto John's shoulder, which just so happened to be the injured one. John barely had enough time to let out a painful yelp before being dragged to the floor by Sherlock. They landed in a heap on the floor; John fell right on top of Sherlock, causing all the air to go rushing from Sherlock's lungs.

"John, you're on top of me." Sherlock sputtered from underneath him.

"Sorry." John tried to move, but a stabbing pain in his shoulder caused him to shout in pain and remain still.

"Why aren't you moving?" Sherlock asked, impatient.

"Because some idiot decided to pressure point my shoulder, give me a minute." John said trying to shift his weight onto his good arm.

"Well you shouldn't have fallen in the first place; I thought you had good balance." Sherlock grunted as John accidentally put his good hand on his ribcage.

"Well I'm not the one who keeps unnecessary boxes of junk all over the flat to trip on." John finally found the ground and began to get up. Sherlock grumbled on the floor and began to get up himself. John reached forward for the drawer he was pretty sure contained the flashlights.

"Not that drawer." Sherlock said from behind him, having finally gotten to his feet. "There might be entrails in it." John groaned at the thought of touching anything of that sort. Then Sherlock's arms reached around John for the drawer next to the one John had almost opened. John heard it open and Sherlock remove something from it. 'Click'… nothing. "Out of batteries." Sherlock said with a sigh.

"What about candles?" John asked trying to remember where they kept them.

"Needed the wax for an experiment." Sherlock said flatly. John sighed in exasperation, and having forgotten that Sherlock was behind him turned around right into Sherlock. For the second time that evening they fell to the floor, this time Sherlock twisted in midair causing John to land underneath him. John was rather suddenly introduced to the floor and he didn't think the floor and him were going to be friends. Sherlock was a lot heavier than most would assume, although he was thin, he was tall and had a surprising amount of muscle as well. So when Sherlock landed on top of John, John was less than pleased. Sherlock on the other hand was very happy that John had turned out to be so comfy to land on. John tried to wiggle out from underneath Sherlock but Sherlock, suddenly struck with an idea, pinned him to the floor.

"Just stay there John, no point in risking even more injury." Sherlock said, glad the dark masked his smile. John sighed but relaxed anyway.

"It's a good thing no one can see us, because if they could, the gossip would have reached France by now." John muttered, Sherlock and John chuckled, which felt very odd with them laying on each other. Several minutes passed with them on stacked on top of each other and finally the power came back on. Sherlock and John both blinked at the sudden brightness and began to get up when a very concerned Mrs. Hudson walked in without knocking.

"Are you boys alright? I heard an awful lot of banging around and I-" She stopped when she saw Sherlock on top of John on the kitchen floor. She turned bright red and she backed up very quickly.

"Oh! I am so sorry, I didn't realize… I didn't mean to interrupt… I'm really sorry." And before John could protest she was out of the door. John sighed and looked up at Sherlock who was grinning broadly. John couldn't help but smile back and they both burst into laughter. Sherlock stood up and offered a hand to John; John took it and got up, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I suppose it was inevitable." Sherlock said, still grinning. John nodded in agreement and looked back towards the book he had been reading.

"Well I think I'm going to go to sleep, and so are you." John said with a shrug.

"I think I'll stay awake if you don't mind." Sherlock said, making a move towards the sofa. John grabbed him by the arm.

"Wasn't a question, you are sleeping. There are no two ways about it." John smiled at Sherlock but Sherlock knew he had no choice but to obey. They stood there and stared into each other's eyes for a moment, both smiling slightly and John holding Sherlock's arm. Sherlock broke the gaze and with a sigh he stomped off to his bedroom. John said goodnight before going to sleep himself, shaking his head with a contented smile. Secretly glad the universe had interrupted his quiet night in.

An undisclosed distance away the universe was frowning at his monitor. Mycroft had thought that this black-out would do the trick for sure. He had been trying to set up Sherlock and John for months now, and this would be his fifth failed attempt to do so. Mycroft was not accustomed to failing quite so often and was not enjoying it. With a sigh he turned off the computer, grabbed his umbrella, and left the room. Anthea was waiting for him outside, typing away on her phone. She had grown quite fond of the name Anthea ever since meeting John but it wasn't important, Sherlock and John were the only things on Mycroft's mind at the moment. He sighed, he didn't want to do this but he didn't have a lot of options left. With yet another sigh he said to Anthea

"Anthea, I want you to make the final arrangements for the plans we had for Baker Street."

"You mean the plans involving the shipment of 7 kilograms of glitter, 5 chocolate assortment platters from Belgium, and the extra-large bouquet of exotic flowers to Baker Street?" Anthea looked up from her phone with a small smile. Mycroft let out one last sigh and said

"Yes… those plans."


End file.
